Deep in the Indian jungle on the banks of the Bengal River rests the Temple of Mara. Much work and time was invested in its creation by devoted worshipers. Fierce snakes were chiseled into stone, peering down at the visitors from the top of pillars and guarding the entrance alongside the steps. Tablets and inscriptions were scattered around the temple, the Marabic issuing the same warning variously. The air was cool. The jungle extremely lush and green as if blessed by the deity's presence. Accompanying the jungle sounds was the rushing of the powerful blue river.

The Servants of Mara humbly welcomed worshipers and explained what to do once they entered the temple. Many entered, fewer left. Those who did were richly blessed by the god with a gift of their choosing should proven worthy: eternal youth, earthly riches, or future knowledge.

One old woman left looking young and beautiful again. Her wrinkles smoothed, a youthful spring in her step, and turning every male's head. It was unbelievable that this was the same bent over elder who had entered. A man left with all the riches he could carry and more. People gaped at the glittering gold, shining silver, milky white pearls, crimson rubies like drops of blood, emeralds as green as the jungle, and sapphires as blue as the Bengal that touched the banks of the temple. Another girl left with her once brown eyes now purple and glittering with stars. When she parted her lips, prophesies and predictions tumbled from her mouth.

These were the treasures given to those worthy of Mara's blessings. The ultimate test was what inspired one of the many manners of that culture: Never look into the eyes of Mara. Despite being part of the culture, looking into Mara's beautiful, bottomless eyes was harder than anticipated. It would not be a test if it wasn't. Worshipers could feel the idol's eyes open and bore into them as one could feel any pair of eyes. Eyelids would become light as if something tugged at them to open. One's spirit would begin to feel restless. Is it time to open them? What will happen if I open them? Will I receive my wish if I don't or is it all just a ploy to make me look foolish?

Only the strongest wills prevail. Those who are weak and unworthy and gaze into the eyes of Mara will be cast into the Gates of Doom where unspeakable horrors will decide their fate.

One visitor was a child, who proved herself worthy and gained future knowledge. When she exited the temple, her eyes glowed deep purple and sparkled with a thousand stars. When asked to prophesy, her smile faded and she spoke in am echoing voice that wasn't hers. "Flee. For great water is to burry Mara for two thousand years."

As soon as she finished speaking, the waters of the Bengal began to rise. The pure, dark blue became murky with mud. Worshipers scattered while the Servants of Mara activated the procedures they were trained to do in order to protect Mara till their dying breath. Inside, traps were set, walls closed and the treasures of Mara were kept safe.

A flood buried the sacred temple and its location was lost. There in the Lost Delta it will wait for a worthy archeologist to find it.

* * *

Nepal, 1935

Dr. Abner Ravenwood lay the pieces of fabric in a box. This map took years in the finding, and he only had half. He closed the box and brushed the smooth wood with his calloused fingertips. An ache settled in his chest for a quest abandoned, but there was another passion on his mind, one that he has spent his life studying and searching for. Perhaps if he found the Ark of the Covenant soon, he could then finish this puzzle and start a new adventure.

Scribbling on a piece of paper, Ravenwood tied it to the box. Despite their recent falling-out, there wasn't another person in the entire world he would trust to find the Temple of the Forbidden Eye should he fail to.

Time ran out for Abner Ravenwood, but as for Indiana Jones, time was on his side.